Nor Yet Favor to Men of Skill
by Ael L. Bolt
Summary: A supplementary fic to Nor the Battle to the Strong. Julian deals with his guilt over bringing Jake to Ajilon Prime.


Nor Yet Favor to Men of Skill  
  
By Admiral Ael Danks  
  
Disclaimer: Star Trek DS9 belongs to Paramount and ViaBorg...er, ViaCom. Which is really too bad, otherwise the series would probably be a lot better than it was, and there'd be a ton of Bashir episodes. ^_^ Er-hem. Anywhoo..."Nor the Battle to the Strong" is the 102nd DS9 episode, and it does not belong to me in the slightest. I merely took the story and ran with it. All characters also belong to Paramount.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Genre: General/Sci-fi  
  
Codes: Bashir, Jake, O'Brien, Dax, Sisko, Kalandra, Kirby  
  
Summary: A handful of "what you didn't see" scenes from "Nor the Battle to the Strong," starting from the shelling and continuing through the ending credits. Bashir deals with his guilt over bringing Jake to Ajilon Prime.  
  
  
  
The explosions are still ringing in my ears as I hit the ground behind a boulder. Pain shoots up my left leg as shrapnel goes flying, and I can feel warm blood spilling out onto the ground. I crawl behind the nearest rock and stand up quickly.  
  
I look back at Jake just in time to see him disappear from view in a cloud of dust and smoke. "JAKE!" I yell, and I start to run back to him.  
  
The ground next to me suddenly explodes, and I'm falling...falling...  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
After what seems like an eternity later, I awaken. The explosions are gone, and an eerie silence has settled over the field. I look around frantically for Jake, but I can't see him. No, no, I can't find him! Where is he? I never should have brought that boy to this planet, let alone out here!  
  
I try to sit up, and white-hot agony flares in my left arm and chest. I drop back to the dirt on my back, gritting my teeth and trying not to scream. I wait for the pain to die down, and then I peel back my charred uniform to see the extent of the damage.  
  
Ugh. That is NOT pretty. I have plasma burns from wrist to shoulder, which then spread across the upper-left quarter of my chest. And if the feeling in my neck and left leg is any indication, I got hit pretty bad there, too.  
  
Any ordinary person would probably just lie here and die quietly, but not me. I refuse to die like this, suffering alone on a forgotten battlefield.  
  
I carefully push myself up into a sitting position with my right arm, and using my good leg I scoot backwards until the boulder is helping to keep me upright.  
  
Now comes the fun part. As quickly as I can, I grip the boulder and shove myself upwards to a standing position, and I just barely manage to get my feet underneath me. For a moment I just lean against the boulder, taking shallow breaths to ease the pain in my side.  
  
Even from my new vantage point, I still can't see Jake. Maybe he made it to the runabout...  
  
I set out for the ship, limping across the field and hoping the Klingons aren't still wandering around with itchy trigger-fingers.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
The runabout is the same as when I left it, and the portable generator is still there. No sign of Jake. Damn you, Bashir! You know better than to bring a kid into combat, let alone THAT kid! Now I've got no help, I'm wounded, and if I don't die soon, Sisko's going to kill me himself.  
  
I carefully try to lift the generator, but it only moves a few centimeters. I look down at my left arm, burned and blackened as it is, and I brace myself. Then I reach for the generator with both hands.  
  
The pain is nearly blinding, but I can pick it up now. With the generator firmly in my grasp, I limp my way back across the field to the underground hospital. A whole kilometer of lurching, staggering, and limping across dust and rocks.  
  
Time starts to blend together, and my awareness begins to drift. The pain isn't so bad anymore, and I can't feel my arm at all. I wonder where Jake is. Maybe Kirby knows. Or maybe Kalandra. Or that Bolian chap. Yeah.  
  
"Doctor Bashir! Doctor Bashir!"  
  
What is that irritating noise? Wait a minute, that sounds like Kalandra. Why's she calling my name? Where is she, for that matter?  
  
"Kirby, he's in shock and destabilizing, fast!" her voice shouts in my ear. "Get a stretcher over here, and tell someone to hook up that generator!" Her voice becomes quieter. "Just hang on, Lieutenant." I feel something brush across my forehead, stroking my hair. "You'll be okay, just hold on a little while longer."  
  
Hold on? Hold on to what? I don't know what she means, but I'll do my best.  
  
A voice continues to speak, but I'm not sure if it's Kalandra. She sounds like...like...Mum? "Don't worry Jules, you're safe here," she says soothingly, her Arabic voice somehow easing the pain. "The doctors will help you get better, and then you can go back home to Earth with us." Her voice becomes more distant. "I've got to go now, Jules. Don't be afraid. The doctors will take good care of you."  
  
No, Mum, please don't go...I'm so scared and lonely...  
  
Kalandra's voice fades back in, and I can feel myself being moved around a lot. "He's lost a lot of blood, set up an IV with type B-negative." There's a hissing sound, and a puff of cold against my neck. I start to feel very sleepy, all of a sudden...a sedative?  
  
I don't care what it is. I release my hold on consciousness, and embrace the welcoming dark.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
When I open my eyes, I'm surprised. I never thought I'd do that again.  
  
Looking around, I can see the beeping monitors, sleeping patients, and lots of bloodstained sheets. Rows and rows of beds are lined up next to me, and in each one is a critically wounded person.  
  
It takes a minute, but I quickly realize that I'm on a bed, too. A somewhat soft pillow is supporting my head and neck, but there must be a shortage of sheets because I don't have one. My head feels strange, as if I'm still half-asleep, but I figure it's from the sedative. My arm and chest feel heavy, and I look down to see a thick bandage wrapped from wrist to shoulder and across my chest. I've also got a lighter bandage around my left leg, but it looks almost like an afterthought.  
  
A figure in gray and red passes close by, and I hear the welcome whirr of a field tricorder as they wave the instrument over the person next to me. I focus, narrowing my vision until I can see clearly. It's Kirby. He turns around, and sees me looking at him. A smile forms on his face as he walks over, tricorder in hand.  
  
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Doc," he says cheerfully as he waves the tricorder over me. "How're you feeling?"  
  
It takes me a moment to find my voice. "Better than I expected," I reply, wincing as the effort sends sharp spikes of pain into my vocal cords. "Where's Jake?"  
  
Kirby freezes for a moment, then he acts like he's busy taking tricorder readings. I'm starting to get alarmed. "Kirby, where is he?" I almost try to sit up, but a wave of weakness knocks me back down.  
  
"We...we can't find him," Kirby answers, his voice so quiet I can barely hear him. "After we got the generator up and running, a team went out looking for him. There's no sign of him anywhere."  
  
I close my eyes. Oh, Lord, please don't let him be dead. I'll never forgive myself, and neither will Sisko. I can imagine it now. Hello, Captain. It's me, Julian Bashir, the man who murdered your son! No hard feelings?  
  
Kirby seems to know what I'm thinking. "I don't think he's dead, Doc. Even if he got hit during the shelling, there'd be a body. We didn't find one, so maybe he got away..." He trails off, and I look up to see him staring blankly at the wall. After a moment, he shakes his head and turns back to me as if nothing happened. "So, how's the arm? Any pain?"  
  
"Not unless I move," I answer, but my mind is still on Jake. Oh please, God, let him be alive.  
  
"That's good," Kirby says fake-cheerfully. "Just get some rest and you'll be good as new in no time at all." He suddenly becomes more serious. "I hate to tell you this now, but you'd better get well, fast. The Klingons are getting ready to attack the compound, and we need all the help we can get."  
  
"I...I'll try."  
  
I guess I'm still looking worried, because he adds, "If I get any word about Jake...you'll be the first to know." And with that, he continues on his rounds.  
  
For awhile, I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the steady beep of medical equipment all around the room. Now that I'm thinking about it, I realize that this is the designated Intensive Care ward. Only those patients who are in danger of destabilizing or dying are supposed to be here, and suddenly I feel very ill. Just how badly was I hurt?  
  
I'm not sure what sound shakes me from my reverie, but I glance over toward the door and quickly do a double-take. There, standing in the doorway, is Jake Sisko. "Jake!" I say, completely surprised and utterly relieved. "Oh, thank God!" I reach out with my right hand, wanting to touch him and make sure he's still alive. He slowly comes over and I grab his jacket, but he looks as if he'd rather be anywhere than here so I let go. "I thought you'd been killed," I tell him, and I adjust my position on the bed so I can see him better. "Once the shelling stopped and I couldn't find you, I assumed the worst."  
  
It should reassure him, but he looks so pained. Not physically, of course - the small cut on his left cheek isn't that serious - but definitely emotionally. I know that it's my fault. "I am so sorry," I tell him, hoping he'll accept my apology.  
  
Jake looks nervous, now. "It's all right," he mumbles, his gaze temporarily flicking to the side, away from me...I can't imagine what he must be thinking, but I can guess, so I jump into the conversation again. Maybe he'll forgive me if I tell him.  
  
"No, it isn't!" I declare. "I should never have brought you here in the first place. Now we're stuck here, the Klingons are massing to attack...what was I thinking?"  
  
Jake abruptly explodes at me. "Forget it, okay?!" The outburst startles me so much, I stop thinking about my guilt. "What's done is...is done." His voice wavers on the last word, and he won't even look at me. Suddenly I realize that something happened to him while he was out there. Something worse than being separated from me. I don't know what it is, and I'm not going to find out unless he decides to tell me.  
  
I hope he does.  
  
Kirby expertly cuts into the silence. "All right you two, visiting hours are over." Then he turns his attention to the cut on Jake's cheek. "Let me take a look at that." Jake turns his head away from me and lets the young orderly seal up the cut, but once he's done he only gives me a glance before fleeing the ward.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Kalandra comes into the ward to check on the patients the morning after. She smiles at me and consults her tricorder for a moment. "Well, Doctor, you're well enough to get moved out if IC," she tells me.  
  
"Good," I say, forcing myself to smile back. My voice still isn't back to normal. It's too low and gravelly, and it still hurts a little to speak. "I was getting tired of just sitting here."  
  
She carefully removes the bandage from my arm and replaces it with one that isn't quite as bulky, but still covers the same area. "There you go," she says cheerfully. "Do you think you can stand, or do we have to get a stretcher for you?"  
  
"Well, neither of us will know until I try," I answer.  
  
She helps me sit up, and I carefully swing my legs over the edge of the bed until my feet touch the floor. I'm holding onto her arm as I try to stand, which is a good thing because almost immediately my left leg tries to give out. Clutching at the bedframe with the other hand, I try again. This time I stay standing, even if I'm a bit wobbly. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Well, if at first you don't succeed," I comment, winking at her. I let go of her arm and release the bedframe, and one corner of my mind notes that the metal where my hand had been is now warped and twisted. I hope nobody notices that, or I'm in big trouble. Damn you, Dad, why'd you have to do this to me?  
  
"Now, as you're a doctor, I don't think I have to tell you to take it easy until that heals," Kalandra says, but I can detect a hint of teasing in her tone. She hands me my DS9 uniform. Someone was considerate enough to patch up the major tears in it, so it actually looks mostly whole again. "Why don't you go change, and then join us in the mess area? Everyone will be glad to see you up and around again."  
  
"Right. I'll be with you in a few minutes." I have to use my right hand to hold onto the cloth, because my left isn't quite working properly yet. I head for the medtech sleep chamber to change out of this annoying hospital garb. I hate those things. I really do.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
I finally walk into the mess area. Kirby and two other nurses, one of them the Bolian, are sitting at a table talking about how they would prefer to be killed: disrupter or bat'leth. Jake stands nearby, looking fairly sick, but no one else notices. I pat him on the shoulder as I walk by, just letting him know I'm back.  
  
I walk over to the replicator and get a cup of coffee as I watch the discussion. Jake looks very disturbed, and I wonder if I should go over and diplomatically remove him from the situation altogether.  
  
"What do you think Jake?" Kirby asks before I can decide what to do.  
  
Jake flinches. "I think it's not funny."  
  
"Of course not, there's nothing funny about having your throat slit!" Kirby says teasingly as jumps up and mimes swiping a bat'leth across Jake's neck.  
  
That is the last straw for Jake. "Cut it out!" he shouts.  
  
Kirby looks surprised at the force of Jake's reaction. "I was just kidding."  
  
Jake becomes more furious, if anything. "You think this is some joke. It's not. People are dying! It's all so stupid. This whole stupid war is such a waste! In ten years, nobody's going to remember what anybody did here!"  
  
Kirby is beginning to look fairly ashamed as Jake stands there, screaming at him. I feel sorry for the poor orderly. Jake just doesn't understand gallows humor, but Kirby is used to it. Someone's got to break up this situation before someone does something they'll regret later.  
  
"Jake," I warn, ignoring the sharp pain building up in my throat. I set down my cup of coffee on a nearby shelf.  
  
Jake ignores me. Or maybe he just can't hear me through the...fear? rage? Whatever it is, he keeps going, pounding on the table for emphasis. "Well, maybe you saved a hopper full of people. Maybe you shot yourself in the foot. No one's going to remember!"  
  
"Jake!" I bark. Now I'm mad, and this time the sound of my voice makes everyone freeze in place. My throat really hurts now, but it was necessary. I come forward and lean over to speak softly. "Let's take a walk," I say, and I lead him out to an empty hallway.  
  
"I'm sorry," he says quietly.  
  
I turn to him, and I try to look as understanding as possible. "Look, I know you're scared. We all are," I say gently.  
  
"No.no, it's not that," Jake mutters.  
  
I think he's still thinking about whatever happened out there. "What, Jake? What is it?"  
  
He sighs, refusing to meet my gaze. "I just.didn't think what they were saying was funny."  
  
"Come on, that's not what set you off. Something's eating at you. I can see it." No point in making him feel worse, so I try to make him admit something's wrong. Maybe I can help.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," he says weakly, but we both know it's a lie.  
  
"Ever since you came back here, you've been walking around looking miserable," I say.  
  
"Leave me alone," he mumbles.  
  
"Jake." I try again, this time with a warning underlying my tone.  
  
As I expect, Jake becomes upset again. "Leave me alone!" he says sternly, and for a moment he sounds exactly like his father.  
  
I try not to show my disappointment as he turns away, and I know something's definitely wrong. He seems almost guilty, as if he's ashamed of something. "All right," I say after a moment. "If that's what you want. But if you want to talk, you know where to find me." As I walk away, a thought comes to me. I stop just around the corner, where the lone light in the corridor won't cast my shadow where he can see it, and I listen hard. I can hear his soft crying quite clearly. Poor Jake. I never should have let him talk me into coming here. He's not even in StarFleet, Julian! Since when have you taken innocent boys into a bloodbath with such carelessness? I vow to myself that I WILL get Jake out alive. Sisko will see his son again, or my name's not Julian Subatoi Bashir.  
  
I return to the mess area, and all conversation stops as I enter. Kirby looks at me and then glances back at the tunnel. I shake my head as he starts to stand. "He'll be okay," I tell the young orderly, then add under my breath, "I hope." Throwing a glance at the two nurses, I pick up my cup of coffee again. By now, it's only lukewarm, but I drink it anyway.  
  
I get about halfway through the cup when the floor shakes, and the sound of an explosion tears through the compound. Rocks fall from the rough ceiling, and a support beam creaks somewhere above my head.  
  
"What's going on?" someone shouts.  
  
"Are they inside the compound?" Kirby yells.  
  
Kalandra immediately runs into the room. "Everybody, listen!"  
  
I throw the coffee cup to the side and it smashes into pieces on the floor, spilling the remaining coffee. No one cares. One little mess isn't going to matter when the whole hospital becomes one big mess. The Klingons are here, and this time they aren't going back.  
  
Kalandra comes over to stand by me, in the center of the room, and continues. "We're evacuating. We're taking the patients out through the north tunnel to the surface. A hopper will take us down the penninsula to the base of Tenundra Bay."  
  
Kirby objects. "That tunnel is over two kilometers long, we have over seventy patients to move. Do you know how long that's gonna take?"  
  
"Resource is sending a security detail to defend the hospital and give us time to evacuate," she says. "We can do this!"  
  
I can see that no one seems very confident at all, so I speak up. "We have to keep calm," I say, raising my voice despite the lingering pain. "Focus on our jobs. Those people out there need us."  
  
"Yes, let's move! Come on!" Kalandra shouts, and the medtechs spring into action. I run over to a stack of supply crates; I know we'll be needing them. I pick one up, nearly screaming as I do so. I had temporarily forgotten my arm was hurt so badly, so I hand the crate to Kirby as quickly as I can.  
  
"Two guards? Is that it?" he shouts over the explosions.  
  
"The others are out defending the perimeter," I say as I grab the next crate, making sure to lift mostly with my right hand. I stare in the direction of the attack for a moment, then snap out of it and run.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
The hopper is almost full. I lift up the crate carefully and pass it to Kalandra. My arms are aching from the effort of carrying such a heavy container two kilometers, and my painkiller is beginning to wear off a little. I glance back for any more patients or medtechs, and I see no one.  
  
"That's the last of them," I shout over the cries of the wounded. I step into the hopper, and search for Jake. I can't find him anywhere. "Kalandra, where's Jake?" I ask.  
  
She looks back at me, horrified. "I haven't seen him." Her face drains of all color.  
  
I bite back a curse and snatch a phaser rifle from the floor. "I'm going back for him," I declare as I jump back out, just as the hopper starts to rise.  
  
"Doctor, no! You'll be killed!" she shouts after me, and I turn around to make a quick salute with the rifle. The hopper picks up speed, and I don't stay to watch it leave.  
  
I run back through the tunnels, towards the last place I saw Jake. "Jake!" I call out, and I feel the ground underneath me shake. Clouds of dust drift toward me from the tunnel ahead of me, and I hear the sounds of rocks falling. Mixed in with them is Jake's frightened yelling.  
  
Somehow I find myself in the dust-covered room, where rocks and debris lay strewn about randomly. Underneath the only standing table is Jake, sprawled across and underneath pieces of the cave ceiling. I rush to his side, dropping the rifle and fumbling for my medkit. My fingers still refuse to work properly, and it takes several tries before I can finally hold the tricorder with my left hand. Using my uninjured right hand, I am ready to scan him for any injuries, hoping he has none.  
  
A familiar sound reaches my ears, and I hear the surprised exclamation of "Doctor Bashir!" Turning my head, I see that Sisko and an away team have beamed down, fully armed.  
  
I stand up and face Sisko. "Captain, thank God you're here," I tell him, relieved that reinforcements have finally arrived. "We couldn't have held much longer."  
  
Sisko's eyes are fixed on Jake, and he kneels by his side. "Is Jake hurt?"  
  
"I was just about to run a scan to determine that, when you beamed down," I reply, remembering the tricorder that is, amazingly, still in my numb left hand. I raise it back up so I can see the display, and I crouch down next to Jake. Behind me, the away team moves away. Searching for Klingons, I suppose.  
  
I reach down at touch Jake on the head. "Jake," I say quietly, and he stirs at the sound of my voice. "Look who's here."  
  
"Dad?" His voice is a bit weak, but he reaches for his father.  
  
"Don't move," Sisko warns. "Let Doctor Bashir check you for injures."  
  
Oh yeah. Guess I should do that, huh? I activate the instrument and start scanning him.  
  
"What happened?" He sounds dazed, but mostly fine.  
  
"I came back for you when I realized you weren't on the hopper," I tell him as I work.  
  
"The cease-fire has been reinstated," Sisko adds. "The Klingons are pulling out. It's over."  
  
I look at the tricorder readings. Jake has a few bruises, and he'll probably be sore for awhile, but he has no major injuries. "He could be a little bit better, but he seems to be all right," I tell Sisko.  
  
Sisko doesn't acknowledge my diagnosis, but I can tell he's relieved. "Sealing the entranceway was a risky thing to do," he continues to Jake. "You nearly brought down the whole ceiling on yourself."  
  
"We never would have gotten those patients out alive if you hadn't done it. You're a hero," I add as I pat him on the shoulder, but Jake doesn't look very thrilled. He looks almost...guilty?  
  
I step back. After a few minutes alone, Sisko and Jake beam up to the Defiant. I'm so lost in thought over the matter that a hand on my shoulder startles me, and I wince as the slight pressure snakes its way through my sleeve, through the bandaging, and into my burns. I jerk away from the touch. Couldn't it be my other shoulder? This one hurts too much.  
  
I turn around to see Miles. He's looking at me somewhat strangely, with a mix of concern and confusion. "Something wrong?" he asks me.  
  
"Nothing that can be helped at the moment," I reply. "Are we ready for beam- up?" I change the topic, hoping he won't notice. All I want to do is go home to DS9 and sleep for a month. And maybe get a painkiller or two, because my current one is definitely wearing off. I think my arm would feel better if I just whack it off now. Someone get me a knife.  
  
I think my tactic works, because Miles answers my question without looking much more concerned. "Well, I'm not inclined to stick around any longer than I have to. You got anything you need to get before we go?"  
  
I shake my head. "Nothing but my medkit, and I've already got that." I'm about ready to call the Defiant, but then I notice that my commbadge is missing. Huh. Probably got knocked off sometime during the evacuation. Oh well, spilt milk. I'll get a new one when I get back to the station.  
  
Either Miles doesn't notice, or he was going to call the ship anyway. He taps his commbadge, and I hear the welcome chirp as it opens a channel. "O'Brien to Defiant. Two to beam up."  
  
Kira's voice acknowledges the call, and within moments I feel the almost- tickling sensation of a Federation transporter. All I can see is shimmering blue, which then fades to the Defiant's transporter room. Jadzia Dax smiles from behind the transport console as I materialize. "Welcome back, Julian," she says as I step off the transporter pad.  
  
"I certainly do feel welcome, "I reply, smiling back. It's not completely forced. "I take it Captain Sisko and Jake are already in their quarters?" She nods. "Well, I suppose I'll talk to both of them later, then. I'm going to pay a quick visit to the medbay," I add as I start heading for the door. I hope they think it's one of those "making sure everything's where I left it" things, instead of being an actual injury.  
  
No such luck. "Mind if I come along?" Jadzia offers, and before I can answer she's already at my side. Once we're out of Miles' hearing range, she turns to me. "You're wounded, aren't you?" It's not really the question she's asking.  
  
I hesitate for a moment. "Yes." There's no purpose in lying to her. She knows me better than I do, sometimes. Besides, lying only hurts our relationship. I give in to curiosity. "How'd you know?"  
  
"The way you're holding that tricorder," she admits. "Where are you hurt?"  
  
"Most of my left side. Neck, leg, chest, arm...I was caught out of cover when the shelling started. Had to carry the runabout's generator an entire kilometer after that, all by myself."  
  
Oops, bad thing to say. She stops, right in the hallway, and stares at me in disbelief. "You carried a runabout power generator for a kilometer? By YOURSELF?"  
  
I scramble quickly for an answer. I'd temporarily forgotten that normal humanoids can't do things like that. Especially while suffering from shrapnel wounds and plasma burns. "Well, I dragged it most of the time," I say, a moment too late. "It's all still rather fuzzy," I admit, and it's true; I can't remember a lot of what happened between getting hit and waking up in the IC.  
  
By this time, we're at the medbay. I give a passing greeting to the nurse on duty before helping myself to a hypo of painkiller. It helps immediately; the growing pain in my arm subsides into a dull background ache. I look down at my arm, noticing for the first time that there's blood seeping from the bandages. I didn't notice before because my sleeve was in the way, but now it's at an angle where I can see the red stains.  
  
I call the nurse over and start to take off my uniform jacket, when I remember that Jadzia is still standing there, watching. I don't think she'll want to see what happened to my arm, but she notices my hesitation. "Go ahead, let me see," she says gently.  
  
Well. Never let it be said that I don't do anything she asks.  
  
I hear her gasp as I peel the bandage off, with the Bajoran nurse's assistance. Looking at my arm for the first time since the shelling, even I have to admit it looks pretty bad. All the skin from forearm to shoulder is blackened and charred, and in some places I can see the white of bone through small holes in the burned flesh. Thick red blood is smeared across my entire arm, and even though I've unfortunately become used to the sight, it's a bit different when I see such an injury on myself.  
  
The nurse quickly retrieves a roll of bandages, and with her help I rewrap my arm. I know we don't have anything on the Defiant to treat such severe injuries, so it's all I can do until we make it back to the station. Then I can spend days in the Infirmary...my clean, wonderful Infirmary...I can't believe I miss it this much, so soon. It's only been about a week and a half since Jake and I left DS9, but it seems like an eternity to me.  
  
When I'm done covering up my arm, I glance over at Jadzia. "Looks worse than you expected, doesn't it?" I ask her, and she nods. I sigh. "Well, at least it was me instead of Jake. I never should have taken him to Ajilon Prime in the first place." How they must all hate me. A doctor should always know when there's a danger to someone in his care, and it was just plain common sense to not take an untried teenager into a triage situation. I'm surprised that I haven't recieved a reprimand from Sisko yet. I'm sure he'll get around to it sooner or later. I deserve it.  
  
I can feel Jadzia staring at me, even though I'm not looking at her. "Julian-"  
  
"I'm going to my quarters." I feel bad about interrupting her, but I'd just rather be alone for awhile. "Would you give me a call when we arrive at the station?" I glance up after a moment, meeting her eyes. She slowly nods, and I all but run from the room.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
A chime at the door rouses me from a deep sleep sometime later. I'm still half-asleep, but I call to the computer, "Computer, identify visitor."  
  
The computer replies almost immediately. "Visitor is Captain Sisko."  
  
Well, here it is. He's probably here to yell at me for putting his son into danger...oh well, no avoiding it. I sit up and rub my face with my good hand. I look rather frazzled, I'm sure. I haven't shaved in at least two days, nor have I showered or changed my uniform.  
  
"Come," I call, and the door slides open. Captain Sisko steps through the door, and hesitates for a moment when he sees me.  
  
"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asks.  
  
I nod as I stand up. "Yes sir, but that's all right. Is there a problem?"  
  
"No, no problem." Hmm, that's interesting. He sounds too calm for this to be a reprimand. What's he up to? "I just wanted to thank you for watching over Jake."  
  
Okay, THAT one threw me. I stare at him for a moment. Not that I'm complaining, but why isn't he angry with me?  
  
Fortunately, Sisko doesn't seem to notice my disbelief. "If it weren't for you, we would have lost Ajilon Prime completely," he continues. "You're as much a hero as Jake is, except you'll probably get a medal."  
  
I find my gaze drawn to my bandaged arm. "Every victory has a price," I say. He doesn't seem surprised at my reaction. I think Jadzia's been sharing again. Even so, he doesn't mention it.  
  
"We're en route to DS9. We'll be there in a day and a half," he says instead. "How long will it take for your injuries to heal?" He sounds genuinely concerned, but that's understandable. I'm the only victim of the attack that he knows personally. Well, aside from Jake, that is. And Jake wasn't wounded physically, but I can still see the pain in his eyes from memory alone.  
  
Come on, Bashir, you're slipping. Your CO asked you a question, now answer it!  
  
I quickly calculate my answer in my head. "I'd say a week, maybe two." Thank God I can remember not to be too precise. These enhancements are getting harder and harder to hide, and it certainly wouldn't help if I predicted things to the hour. "I'm assuming I'll be ordered off-duty until then?"  
  
"If you think it's best," Sisko replies. "You've done more than anyone asked, and I'm sure Doctor Kalandra and her associates are grateful."  
  
"Thank you, sir." I'm starting to fidget nervously under his gaze. Sisko's stares have always unnerved me, especially when I know WHY he's examining me so closely. "Is that all, sir?" I want him to get out of here. Not only is he making me uncomfortable, but my arm hurts less when I'm unconscious. And, as the Captain would say, I've been thrown enough curveballs for one day.  
  
"Just one more thing," Sisko says. "I want you to know that you're the best doctor that StarFleet has to offer." He smiles and leaves my quarters.  
  
For a few moments, I just stand there staring blankly at the door. Then it hits me, and I start to laugh. Not a soft chuckle, either. I'm laughing so hard, I fall back onto my bed. He doesn't blame me! No one blames me! It's not my fault after all! I've spent the past three days worried sick about this, and it turns out it was nothing!  
  
It takes several minutes for me to get my amusement under control, but I'm still smiling to myself as I get up and head for the sonic shower. Time to get back to my life.  
  
  
  
Fin. 


End file.
